


Numbers

by outlawserenade



Series: I Can Do This [2]
Category: DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics)
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Damian Wayne is Robin, M/M, brain and brawn and a pile of clay, see this is why they should work together, the rest are minor chars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:48:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlawserenade/pseuds/outlawserenade
Summary: Numbers, numbers. There are numbers, and there are *numbers*.





	Numbers

Jason hated numbers. He glared at the random numbers appearing on the screen as if he could just glare them to submission.

If it was in another situation, Tim would have probably laughed. Or took video for posterity.

As it was, there is a bomb attached to the numbers, and three wrong guesses would send it, and a few more buildings where the other bombs were hidden at, to the air. Or the next state. Probably both.

Given the fact that both Tim and Jason,  _and_  a few hundreds civilians are currently  _inside_  said few buildings, it is not a happy outcome. The bright side is - and Tim rolled his eyes at his internal monologue - there is no timer.

"I hate numbers." Jason stated plaintively. The body of the bomb itself was proven to have been welded shut. Otherwise, Jason could probably disarm the bomb.

Tim, though, Tim liked numbers. And puzzles. Call it a quirk, but when he saw random string of numbers on a license plate of a car, his brain could decipher it enough to know the combination of six numbers-and-letters spelled out the location of the owner's home, number of registered vehicles under the owner, number of dependents in the household, and whether or not the owner has a vehicular felony on records.

Well, maybe only in Gotham.

Anyway.

Reading the numbers under a barcode had been easy. Likewise reading the POS codes of every supermarket's inventory. But the Riddler is not an out-of-work librarian who'd start with Dewey decimals, or a retailer looking for revenge through some convoluted code against cornflakes.

Tim blinked as his subconscious actually read the  _brand_  of a popular cornflakes, and then the next, as the numbers changed.

"Sunnuva bee..." he muttered. Sometimes he hated his eidetic memory. Or maybe just on the days he doesn't actually _need_ his brain to make sure his surrounding and/or half of Gotham does not go boom or the equivalent thereof. "Guys, somebody go to Happy Ranch Supermarket on the corner of Main and 72nd, and then to the cereals isle." he ordered, a little louder. The number changed again. "Next one to WellFared downtown, next to Bullseye Mart at The Hills..." he called out several other supermarkets as he saw them - or rather, their products' POS numbers flashed on the screen.

"I'm not following." Batwing admitted, a short few seconds later. "Wait, I see an anomalous box here, Bullseye Mart Hills. No wires, though."

"Send me the inside looks!" Jason barked before Batwing could say anything.

"Okay..." he x-rayed the box and sent the images to the Red Hood's helmet. "Looks like semtex." Tim mentally patted himself on the back for building the X-ray scanners into the bat-team's masks. 

"It is. Be gentle, get it out of cellphone range." Jason ordered.

"I see one in a fridge." Damian - Robin - said.

"Robin! Do  _not_  take it out!" Jason growled. "Anyone else finding anomalies in a fridge or chillers, do  _not_  take it out! Scan them and send the scans to me, empty the building right away."

" _-tt-_  I can dismantle bombs, Hood." Robin snarled back.

"Do  _not_ , Robin! People first." Nightwing's voice came through the commlinks. And Tim relaxed a bit. If anything, the belligerent Robin would listen to Nightwing.

"Final number, guys, Merchant Jim's at Bleeker. Who's there?"

"I am." A gruff voice growled. "Building's empty, sending scans. Dismantling it right now. I trust you have the combinations?"

"Yes, Batman. They're randomizing after a full circle. But I get it." Tim said, "everybody give me your status. Alphabetized." Alphabetized, literally, would get the allies to report alphabetically according to their surname.

"Spoiler clear!"

"Batwing clear!"

"BatGirl clear!"

"Nightwing clear!"

"Batwoman clear."

"I just ate the bomb." Clayface replied. Tim rolled his eyes. "I'm clear, I think." Clayface added.

"Bluebird is wondering WTF is wrong with Clayface, but am clear." Harper Row replied dryly.

"Azrael clear!"

"Robin clear!"

Tim waited for a few seconds. "Orphan?" he checked.

Static, then a small voice replied, "clear." from Cassandra Cain - Orphan.

"Can we find other codename for Orphan, maybe? Every time she gets called, I have to restrain myself from answering." Jason grumbled. Dick snickered. 

Tim poked Jason's belly lightly. "Right, Batman?"

"Clear," Batman replied. "Go ahead."

Tim inputted the code he had caught, the general POS -  _product_  number -  
for Tomato, of all things. Organic tomato. The screen flickered, and revealed a countdown of 30 seconds.

"Shit." Tim gasped.

"Right, my turn." Jason commented, and dragged out the entire keyboard. And within seconds, found the cable that should connect the final bomb - the one in front of their faces, and attached a thumbdrive that sent the countdown into a loop. Jason then flipped up the faceplate on his helmet and grinned mischievously at Tim. "Team Red, clear."

"Good job, everybody." Batman's voice came through the commlinks.

A distant 'bang' happened somewhere near Amusement Miles, followed by a plume of smoke and silence. A few heartbeats later, Clayface's voice croaked through the commlinks, "'S'all good! Nobody's hurt!" Somebody - several somebodies, Tim suspected Bluebird and Nightwing, at least - burst out laughing.

Jason and Tim exchanged glances, before simultaneously rolling their eyes.

"He ate it." Tim pointed out.

"I heard." Jason replied dryly. "The bright side is that it probably popped  _because_  he ate it."

"...and let's not forget nobody was hurt!" Spoiler's voice chirped cheerily.

"--Let's not forget that." Tim concurred. "Anybody up for dinner?"


End file.
